


Sometimes a Cake is Just a Cake

by ceshaughnessy



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: Childhood Adventures, Family fun, Fluff, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 17:45:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6529858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceshaughnessy/pseuds/ceshaughnessy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pippin and Tulip want to enter the Hobbiton Faire Baking Competition with a very special recipe he found in an old cookbook at Great Smials, so he enlists Merry's help. However, Bilbo unwittingly forces Pippin to make a temporary change in plans...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Shire Kitchen Recipe Challenge 2008   
> Theme: "In a Pinch"

“Sometimes a Cake is Just a Cake…” 

 

Whatever was he going to do with a ten year old for an entire day? Not any ten year old either, Bilbo reminded himself, but one with boundless energy, insatiable curiosity, and a knitted piglet in tow the lad quite believed was real. The old hobbit shook his head. Just how did I get myself into this? You know perfectly well how you did, Bilbo Baggins! You are far too kind hearted and you wanted to do something nice and offer the lad’s weary mother a day off during the family’s visit. 

All right, so I’ve made my bed. Now all I need is a bit of help to lie in it. He grinned slyly at the thought. Ah, yes. Well, Merry adored his younger cousin. Surely he would be of some help? And Frodo too. Yes, that was surely the answer. Bilbo rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he went into the kitchen to prepare the first breakfast of the day for his guests and lay his plans. 

There was plenty to do to get ready to attend the Hobbiton Faire. After all, it was only two short days away and he wanted to prepare dishes to enter at least five of the competitions. Let’s see. Bilbo rubbed his chin in thought as he inspected the pantry with a critical eye. He was certain he had the items he needed to at least begin all of his baking. However, there was no doubt at all he would need to go to the market for several important items. No matter. The lads could certainly help him out with minding Pippin. Or, if need be, he could always take him along. No…Bilbo pictured the youngster inside Miss Petunia’s specialty shop and cringed ever so slightly. He recalled the last time he’d taken the lad along shopping and the amount of money and apologies it had cost to make amends for Pippin’s rambunctious nature. Better to leave him home in the care of his elder cousin. Frodo would see to it that everything went well. Yes, that was the perfect solution. 

****** 

“Cousin Bilbo!” A small fury of activity roared into the kitchen like a storm front after a humid day. Pippin careened into the old hobbit, attaching himself firmly to Bilbo’s knees. Pippin held on for dear life, clutching his knitted piglet in one hand as firmly as he clung to his elderly cousin’s legs. His golden brown curls were in need of a good brushing, and he’d obviously been outside in the garden because his hands were dirt smeared and grimy. 

Bilbo sighed, and then reached down to disentangle the youngster from his legs and plunk him firmly on a kitchen chair. “Well, hullo there, young hobbit! And just what have you been up to so early on such a fine morning?” 

Pippin drew a deep breath and began chattering away fully intending to fill Bilbo in on everything he’d done since opening his eyes that morning. Bilbo listened with half of his attention, chuckling as he resumed the breakfast preparations. 

“Then I petted Lily because she was sitting on the corner of my bed and she was purring…did you know that kitties can do that, Cousin Bilbo?” Without waiting for an answer Pippin continued, “and then I had to go to the privy and so Lily followed me!” He paused to giggle into his hand before continuing. “I’m so happy I was allowed to bring her along. I wish I could have brought Dizzy too, but Da said no, because Dizzy is still too young to travel so far in the carriage, because he might get sick all over me like he did when--” 

“Pippin! I really don’t need to hear about that part, all right, m’lad?” Bilbo chuckled again, shaking his head as he flipped the griddlecakes on the stove. The inviting scent had already awakened most of the family and soon Merry, and then Eglantine, entered the kitchen rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Pippin waggled his piglet at them and scolded, “Tulip says you’re late for first breakfast! And she’s very hungry so you better hurry up.” 

Eglantine raised an eyebrow at her rambunctious son, catching hold of one of his hands as he flailed Tulip about. “You need to go have a wash before you even think of having breakfast, m’lad.” She hoisted him down and turned him in the direction of the bathroom. “March!” 

“All right,” Pippin agreed readily and scooted off. He ran headlong into Frodo, who was just coming out of his room. 

“Watch out, Pip,” Frodo laughed, leaping aside at the same time Pippin maneuvered smartly around him and shot away. Pippin moved like a streak of lightning, one hand waving over his shoulder. 

“I’ll be right back,” he called, before he disappeared into the bathroom. 

Paladin emerged from one of the guestrooms as his son streaked by, and bent to scoop up the knitted piglet Pippin had dropped. He placed it on his shoulder in the same manner that Pippin always did, causing Frodo to grin at him. Paladin winked and continued on to the kitchen without a word. 

Eglantine shook her head when she spied him. “What’s the matter, m’dear? Did you forget to bring Sammie-Lambie?” 

‘Hmph, very funny.” Paladin plunked the toy down on Merry’s shoulder as he passed him. 

“Well then, what are you doing with Tulip, Da?” Pimpernel was up now, her younger sister on her heels. Vinca rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned, settling into the nearest chair. 

“Bilbo, let me help with that.” Eglantine neatly removed the spatula from his hand as she passed him. “Where’s Pearl?” She addressed her daughters as she slipped between them in the now crowded kitchen and busied herself at the stove. 

“She went out for a walk earlier,” Nell said. “She said she wanted to enjoy the morning air and have a little peace and quiet before--” 

“Nellllyyyy!” Pippin’s shout and subsequent leap into the midst of his family was punctuated by a yelp as the youngster stomped on Bilbo’s toes as he launched himself at his sister. 

“Easy, Pip.” Paladin caught him neatly in practiced arms before the airborne lad collided with Pimpernel, and settled him on his hip. “Aren’t you missing something?” 

Pippin scrunched up his face in thought, then brightened. “Tulip!” He cried, pointing at Merry. 

The shriek next to his ear caused Paladin to wince. He set Pippin on his feet with a grimace. “Aye, why don’t you go get your toy?” 

“She’s not a toy, Da,” Pippin informed his father as he scampered away. “Is she, Merry?” 

“Of course not, how could anyone think she is?” Merry chuckled and plopped Tulip into Pippin’s arms. 

“Breakfast is served,” Eglantine announced just as the door opened and Pearl joined them. 

****** 

“Are you absolutely certain you want to do this, Bilbo?” Eglantine asked for what Bilbo was certain had to be the tenth time that morning. “He can be quite the handful, you know.” 

“Tina, I’m sure there isn’t a single person in the whole of the Shire who doesn’t know that,” Paladin snorted. He laid a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. “That said, I’ll second my wife’s question – are you certain you want to watch Pippin for an entire afternoon and evening?” 

“Oh mercy, you two sound like I’m offering to play nursemaid to Oddie the bull!” Bilbo waved dismissively. “You all go on just like we planned, and have a grand time visiting the Boffin’s, while we entertain the lad. Isn’t that right, Frodo? Merry?” 

Merry and Frodo traded glances. Merry rolled his eyes as Frodo replied, “Of course. We haven’t seen much of Pippin in quite awhile and we’re delighted to keep an eye on him for you today.” He poked Merry in the ribs with his elbow a little harder than was necessary after his cousin looked like he might protest. “Aren’t we, Merry?” 

“Uh, certainly. Aunt Tina, Uncle Pad, you go right ahead and have a good time while Frodo and I just stay here and…watch our cousin.” 

Paladin regarded the pair with a smirk of amusement playing around the corners of his mouth. Finally he gestured to his daughters to hurry up and get ready and turned to his wife with a shrug. “Since they really want to do this, Tina, let’s get going.” 

“All right.” Eglantine still sounded hesitant. 

“Oh for pity’s sake – go, go! We’ll be fine. How much trouble can it be to look after one small lad for the day?” Bilbo shooed them away with a flap of the tea towel he still held after finishing the washing up. “We have plenty of baking to do for the Faire, so I’m sure we’ll keep ourselves well occupied. Won’t we lads?” Bilbo looked at Frodo and Merry with a slight raise of his eyebrow and a hearty wink. Two curly heads, one dark and one light, bobbed in unison. “There! You see?” The old hobbit made shooing motions again. 

Paladin chuckled as he crossed to the door, muttering something about ‘famous last words.’ He eyed his small son sternly. Pippin beamed at him with his usual innocent look and Paladin couldn’t help grinning back at him. Little imp. That charming smile helped the youngster get away with a great deal more than he should at times. He ruffled Pippin’s hair. “Behave yourself.” 

“I will, Da.” Pippin patted Tulip, who at the moment rested inside his half unbuttoned shirt. “So will Tulip!” 

“See that she does,” Paladin chuckled and gestured at his wife and daughters impatiently. 

Eglantine continued to fret even as she went out the door. “And remember, you may not make any plum tarts, young sir!”

Pippin shook his head from side to side, making his curls fly. “No, Tulip decided on another recipe she wants to make, and she’s very eager to get started.” Pippin’s expression took on an air of mystery and Eglantine hesitated. She knew that look all too well. 

“Maybe I’d better stay and help--” 

“I don’t even have any plums in the hole, Tina,” Bilbo snorted. “Now off with you! We’ll be fine!” Bilbo had no idea how much he’d regret his generosity before the day was out. 

The family headed out, with Eglantine taking one last long look over her shoulder and mouthing a firm ‘be good’ to Pippin, just before Paladin tugged on her arm and pulled the door shut. 

****** 

“All right!” Bilbo clapped his hands together and looked his charges over enthusiastically. All the trappings necessary to create many fine baked goods for the competition surrounded them. “What would you like to make first?” 

“A speedy escape,” Merry muttered underneath his breath. 

Bilbo tilted his head at Frodo. “Are you planning to enter this year, m’lad? That potato bread you made last time certainly was popular.” 

“Well, I don’t know,” Frodo began uncertainly, and was interrupted by a tug on his sleeve. Pippin stared up at him, his eyes huge with beseeching. 

“Please Frodo? You have to enter the contest with Tulip and me! Merry too!” Pippin continued tugging on Frodo’s sleeve until his cousin relented. 

“All right, Pip. I’ll make my potato bread again.” 

“Yay! Merry too!” The youngster bounced up and down on his toes, obviously pleased to be getting his way so readily. “What are you going to make Merry?” 

“Besides a speedy getaway,” Frodo whispered as he walked by. 

“Uhh, well I don’t think I’m going to make anything, Pip. I’ll just watch you and Frodo and Cousin Bilbo.” 

“Oh no, we’re not going to have all the fun, Merry m’lad,” Bilbo shook his head. “You’re in on this too.” 

“But--” 

“We insist,” Frodo said with an air of finality. “After all, why should Bilbo and I be the only other family members to compete with our little cousin?” 

“And Tulip!” Pippin added, waving her around his head. 

“But I’m not good at baking! I’m only good at eating,” Merry continued his protest. 

“Then it’s high time you learned to be better at it. You’re a hobbit, aren’t you?” Bilbo countered. 

Pippin had been pulling on Merry’s sleeve ever more insistently until his cousin finally looked at him with a defeated sigh. “What is it, Pip?” 

Pippin motioned for him to lean down and then stood on his tiptoes and whispered something in his ear. Merry’s eyes widened and his mouth turned up at the corners into a knowing smirk. Pippin placed Tulip up to Merry’s ear next and it appeared the trio was having a meaningful exchange. Pippin dropped back to his feet and stared up at his cousin with one eyebrow quirked in question. 

“All right,” Merry replied slowly, the smirk widening. “I suppose I should learn to be better at cooking.” He laughed aloud. 

Frodo and Bilbo traded puzzled looks, while Pippin grinned. The smallest hobbit tucked his knitted friend under one of his braces and folded his arms across his chest. Bilbo thought he looked for the entire world like he was sizing them all up and wondered just what the impish youngster had up his sleeve this time? 

“We’re ready to get started, Cousin Bilbo,” he declared. 

“Bossy little thing, isn’t he?” Merry chuckled and ruffled Pippin’s hair. 

“What was that all about?” Frodo asked Merry quietly, the first chance he had as they set about their work. 

Merry smiled secretively. “I’m not telling. Yet.” 

“That’s what I was afraid you’d say,” Frodo murmured. 

****** 

“All right, let’s get these in the oven and then we can have a break for luncheon.” Bilbo bent and slid another pan of muffins into the oven before turning back to the soup he had bubbling on top of the stove. 

“That’s good, since we had to miss elevenses,” Pippin reminded him, sounding only slightly accusatory. He climbed onto a chair, clutching Tulip and sniffed appreciatively at the steaming blueberry muffins Frodo had just removed from the oven. Slowly, he snaked out a single finger, just far enough to tell for certain that they were still too hot to eat… 

“Don’t touch!” Frodo warned the youngster, and Pippin shot him a look that said he didn’t need to be told something so obvious. 

“I wasn’t going to! D’ya think I’m daft?” Pippin rolled his eyes. “Even Tulip knows I’m smarter than that.” He paused, eyes widening as he appeared to listen to the piglet. “Yes, you do! You told me just that just a little while ago!” He paused again and then added, “Oh. I’m very glad you were only jesting with me.” Pippin spied his special cup high on the shelf and stood up on his toes to reach across the hot pans. He yelped when his stomach brushed against one of the muffin tins. Frodo snatched him up as he jumped backwards in surprise, almost falling off the chair. 

“You’re not daft, Pip. But you certainly don’t take time to stop and think about consequences.” Frodo placed him on his feet and knelt in front of him. “Let me look at your belly.” He lifted up the shirt, noticing that it wasn’t damaged and sighed in relief to find just the slightest small spot of redness on Pippin’s midsection. Rising to his feet he held out a hand. “Let’s go put a cold cloth on that, just to be sure. And stay down from there.” 

****** 

“Now, all we need is the cinnamon and sugar to sprinkle on the top. Why don’tyou and Merry get that ready for me, hmm?” Bilbo chuckled to himself as he removed the sour cream crumb cake from the oven. The day was going much more smoothly than he had anticipated after all. “Pippin, you still haven’t told me what you and Tulip want to make for the contest. We’ll be ready to make yours next.” 

“But it’s a surprise! I can’t tell you because I have an old recipe that no one has made in a long time. I found it in one of the old cookbooks at great Smials last Yule--” 

“Not the plum tarts!” 

“No!” Pippin scowled at the reminder. 

“Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to tell me what it is because I’m certainly not going to leave you alone in the kitchen,” Bilbo said. 

“But…but Tulip can help me. Then no one else will know what I’m making.” 

“No, Peregrin.” 

Bilbo’s flat reply and the use of his full name caused Pippin to scowl. He scuffed his toes across the floor, thinking hard. He wanted it to be a surprise. And, Merry wanted it to be one too. Merry understood. Maybe he could talk Bilbo into leaving the two of them alone together? His eyes implored Merry to get the hint, but his cousin gave a slight warning shake of his head. 

Pippin sighed. All right, he’d have to settle for a slight, temporary change in their plans, then. “Tulip wants to make Mum’s applesauce cake,” he declared, with a sideways glance at Merry who pretended not to see it. 

“Oh, splendid! That’s a lovely recipe.” Bilbo nodded his approval. “Why, I imagine you make even win first place with it. Come, m’ boy!” 

Frodo lingered behind. “What are you up to?” he whispered. 

“Whatever are you talking about?” Merry looked offended. 

Frodo sighed. “Never mind.” 

Pippin was busy tying the apron on Tulip. He helped mix the flour in a large bowl with Bilbo overseeing. His enthusiastic stirring caused him to flip the entire contents of the bowl on the floor. “Oops. I’m very sorry, Bilbo.” 

Bilbo heaved a sigh and set about cleaning up the flour and broken glass while Frodo took out a new bowl and helped Pippin start over. Frodo was growing very weary of the kitchen by now. It was beginning to seem like the day would never end. Pippin was talking to his toy again. 

“That’s right, you just mix it up like this, m’lass.” He demonstrated stirring the batter a little too enthusiastically with both hands and a great cloud of flour flew up in his face and then rained down on them. A startled Tulip burst out in a series of huge sneezes and demanded someone get her a handkerchief right away! Pippin giggled as he wiped her off, smearing the flour everywhere. Behind him, Frodo was rolling his eyes and trying to renew his patience, while Merry measured the applesauce into another bowl. 

“We’ll need to make a sugar glaze for the cake afterward. It needs to be poured over it while the cake is still warm,” Bilbo told them. “And you can decorate it with walnuts.” 

“Mmmm, it’s going to be very yummy, isn’t it Tulip?” Pippin reached for a jar and was scooping its contents into a measuring cup when Frodo laid a hand on his arm to stop him. 

“I think you want a cup of sugar, Pip, not a cup of salt.” 

“Oh! You’re right, thanks.” Pippin resumed his work, humming a tune and keeping up a steady stream of chatter. 

At last the cake was in the pan and Bilbo shoved it into the oven, then stood and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Whew, it has been a long day, eh lads? But we did get a great deal accomplished.” He patted Pippin on the head as he crossed to the sink. “Your parents are going to be very pleased.” 

“Yes, they are,” Merry said, casting a sly glance at his young cousin. 

****** 

“If I never see another cracked egg or broken dish, it’ll be too soon,” moaned Frodo as he finished cleaning up in the kitchen. Supper simmered on the stove and Pippin was playing outside in the garden. Things seemed to have calmed down at last. 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Bilbo agreed wearily. 

“What time do you think Aunt Tina and Uncle Pad will be back?” Merry was heading out the back door to find Pippin and tell him supper was ready. 

“Not nearly soon enough,” muttered Frodo underneath his breath. 

“Let’s eat, shall we?” Bilbo set the table and put Frodo to work serving up the stew and biscuits. 

****** 

“Well, it looks like Bag End is still intact,” Paladin observed as he led the way up the path. “All of those worries for nothing, Tina. I told you so.” 

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Pad. We haven’t even got inside yet. There’s no telling what your son has been up to all day, and if poor Bilbo has survived it.” 

Paladin chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure Bilbo and the other lads are just fine.” He held the door open for his weary lasses. 

“Bilbo?” Eglantine called out somewhat cautiously. “Merry, Frodo?” 

“Shh!” The old hobbit emerged from his study with a finger to his lips. “We’ve had a very busy day and everyone is already in bed. How was your visit?” 

“We had a wonderful time,” Pimpernel told him. 

“Yes indeed, and I am also more than ready to call it a day,” Pearl said with a yawn. 

“Me too,” mumbled Vinca, already heading down the tunnel towards her room. 

“Good night!” Bilbo called, turning back to Paladin and Eglantine. “Not to worry, everything went fine. Your son made his very first applesauce cake with the help of his piglet friend and his cousins, and now he is safely tucked in with Merry at his side.” 

“Thank goodness,” Eglantine breathed easy for the first time in hours. “And thank you so much for giving me a day out, Bilbo.” 

“I was happy to, my dear.” He winked at Paladin. “Contrary to rumour, your lad is not all that difficult to keep an eye on.” Bilbo laughed, “But of course it was nice to have help! Frodo and Merry did a magnificent job.” 

“Let’s all retire for the night then, shall we?” Eglantine was already heading to Pippin’s room to peek in on him. 

“No problems at all, Bilbo? Are you certain?” 

“Oh, a broken bowl and some spilled flour, not much more than that, Pad. Go on now and get some rest yourself. There’s plenty to do tomorrow too, you know.” 

****** 

Merry and Pippin lay whispering together and hushed when they saw the crack of light as the door swung inward. Both pretended to be asleep. They went back to their whispering as soon as Eglantine withdrew and clicked the door shut. Pippin giggled and Merry hurried to shush him. 

Yes indeed, plenty to do before the Faire started. Two curly heads and a knitted piglet went back to laying out their plans… 

 

Old Fashioned Applesauce Cake: 

 

2 cups sifted flour 

1 cup sugar 

1 tsp salt 

1 tsp cinnamon 

½ tsp nutmeg 

¼ tsp cloves 

2 tsp baking soda 

1 cup raisins 

1 cup chopped walnuts 

½ cup melted butter 

1 lb can applesauce 

Sift together dry ingredients. Add raisins, walnuts, melted butter, and applesauce. Beat until well blended. Pour into greased and floured 9x9x2 inch pan. Bake at 350 degrees, 45 – 50 minutes. Cool, then spread with confectioner’s sugar butter icing and decorate with walnuts.


	2. Sometimes a Cake is Just a Cake: The Recipe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And sometimes a cake is so much more. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOTR Community July Challenges   
> Theme: Summertime 
> 
> Starter sentence: I really hadn’t meant to do it; it was merely a thought, but then my thought seemed to develop a mind of its own.

“Sometimes a Cake is Just a Cake” 

Chapter Two 

“The Recipe” 

 

I really hadn’t meant to do it; it was merely a thought, but then my thought seemed to develop a mind of its own. I was hooked, helpless, like a fish squirming at the end of a line. When my imp of a cousin first whispered his idea in my ear, my first notion was to laugh. Unfortunately, I started to think about it and the idea grew in size and potential. Now, as I watch my aunt and my mother putting the finishing touches on the baked goods before they are loaded on the waggon for the journey to the faire, I find I’m having some serious misgivings about our little prank. Or, should I say, my prank. Pippin still looks at this as something serious he and Tulip are doing. But I know better. Ah well. I may as well sit back and enjoy the fun! 

______ 

“Merry? How are we going to get our special cake made if no one will leave us alone in the kitchen?” Pippin whispered a little too loudly. 

“Shh! Don’t worry, I’ve got it all figured out.” 

“But how? Tell me--” 

The creaking of the door silenced them and Merry hurried to yank the blanket up, at the same time urging Pippin to be still. A moment later they were in the dark again as Eglantine pulled the door shut behind her. 

“Just remember, Pip. It’s a very unique recipe so you have to keep quiet about what it is. I’m sure I can talk Mum into letting us make another cake, and without Bilbo hanging over our shoulders watching everything we’ll be all right.” 

“But how do you know he won’t be?” 

“Because everyone will be extra busy getting ready. They won’t think anything of us making another cake. We’ll just say we thought of another one we want to try because we think it’ll have a better chance of winning than your applesauce cake.” 

“But how will we get the special ingre…ingre…part in it without anyone seeing?” Pippin wrinkled up his brow, thinking hard. 

“It’s called an ingredient, Pip. Just leave all that to me. Quit worrying, will you? We’re going to make the most extraordinary cake the Hobbiton Faire has ever seen!” 

“Maybe we’ll even win first prize!” Pippin chortled with delight. “What do you think, Tulip?” He held the piggy to his ear and grinned. “Tulip thinks we will win first prize!” 

“Perhaps we will at that,” Merry said with a grin. “I doubt there’ll be another one quite like it. And I’ll wager that once the judges get a taste of it they’ll be longing for more.” 

“Then we should make an extra big cake so there’ll be plenty to go around. I wouldn’t like not having enough to go around if folks are going to like it as much as you say they will.” Pippin wrinkled up his brow in thought. “Perhaps we should make two?” 

“No, one big cake will be fine, Pip. It’s going to have three layers, after all. We wouldn’t want a great deal of it left over.” 

Pippin looked puzzled. “But you just said--” 

“I meant that we wouldn’t want them to have so much that the judges get too tipsy. That wouldn’t do.” 

“Is it the special part that’s going to make them get tipsy?” 

“Yes, but, that will be part of the fun, and they’ll all enjoy it. Trust me.” 

Merry yawned widely and flipped over to face the wall. “Get some sleep now. We’ve a great deal to accomplish in the morning.” 

Pippin tried to lie quietly but he was too excited, and the thoughts swirling about in his head refused to be calmed. “What are we going to call the cake? There wasn’t any name for it in the old recipe book. But there was a great deal of writing about what people thought of it. It must taste very good.” 

“We’ll think of something. I just hope I can read your writing.” 

“You can,” Pippin huffed with indignation. “My handwriting is getting better all the time. And besides, I was extra careful when I copied down the recipe.” 

“If you say so. Your writing would be easier to read if you weren’t always in such a hurry.” 

“Merry?” 

“What is it now, Pip?” 

“Can we taste the special stuff before we put it in the cake?” 

“No.” 

“Can I help you find it in the cellar, at least?” 

“We’ll see. Now go to sleep.” 

Pippin rolled onto his back, folding his hands underneath his head after tucking Tulip safely in at his side. “I don’t like it when people say ‘we’ll see’. Mum is always saying that and it usually means I don’t end up getting what I want. I think it’s grownups’ way of saying no without having to actually say it. You’re not even a grownup yet and you’re already saying it.” 

“Stop muttering to yourself and go to sleep like I told you.” 

“I wasn’t muttering to myself, I was talking to you. And Tulip.” He frowned into the darkness. “Tulip just agreed with me. She says she wants to help us get the ingre…stuff from the cellar too.” 

“Good for her. Now be quiet and let me get some sleep or I won’t have enough energy to help you make the cake.” Pippin heaved a heavy sigh. “And stop sighing! You’re starting to sound like Great Auntie Pringle.” 

Pippin snorted. “That wasn’t funny.” He held Tulip up and studied her face. “Was it, m’lass? Tulip just agreed with me, Merry.” It was Merry’s turn to sigh. A few minutes later Pippin spoke into the darkness again. “Can I eat the applesauce cake for first breakfast?” 

“Sure, why not? I’ll even help you. Now, will you please stop talking?” 

_______ 

Pippin found that Merry had been right. It hadn’t been difficult at all persuading his mother and Aunt Esmie into allowing them to bake another cake. As a matter of fact, they acted pleased that both lads were getting so involved in that portion of the faire. And his mum had seemed especially happy that it had nothing at all to do with the plum tarts. The hard part had been getting Merry to allow him to accompany him to the cellar where Cousin Bilbo stored some of his best food and drink, but he had managed it. 

“Strawberry, blueberry, elderberry – oh, look, peach! Hmm…lick…licker,” Pippin mused, rolling the strange word around on his tongue as he studied the labels on the neat row of small bottles. “But that isn’t what it’s called in the recipe book. I thought you said--” 

“This will be just as good, if not better. Trust me, it’ll work just fine. Here, put these in your britches pocket.” Merry handed his cousin two of the diminutive bottles, and then put two more in the pocket of his weskit. “And they’re called ‘liqueurs’, not lickers, Pip.” 

“They sound yummy, no matter what they’re called.” 

“Yes, lots of people think they’re yummy,” Merry snickered. 

“Can I taste one?” Pippin was already unscrewing the cap. 

“NO, Pip! No tasting. We haven’t the time, anyway. Come, let’s hurry before anyone catches us down here.” The boys scurried back up the stairs and into the sunlight, closing the doors to the root cellar very softly before they headed back into the kitchen. 

“Oh, there you are!” 

Both of them jumped at the unexpected voice as Esmeralda looked up from the task of adorning her cake with delicate pink rosebuds made of sugar icing. Pippin reached for the rim of the bowl with one finger and she batted his hand away. “Oh no, you don’t. You keep your wee paws out of the icing, young sir.” She nodded towards the table. “Why don’t you two get busy with your own baking, eh? Let me finish this up in peace.” 

“We certainly will, Mum.” Merry winked at his cousin. 

“Sure, Auntie Esmie.” Pippin giggled and followed Merry to the table where they had laid out the needed items a short while ago. 

Esmeralda finished her task a short while later. “I’m going to take this into the front parlour with the rest of the goods and help Tina start boxing everything for the trip. Can you lads manage in here all right while I’m gone?” 

“I believe we can.” Merry grinned at his mother. “Don’t worry about us. I’ll keep a close eye on Pippin, too.” 

Pippin frowned at his older cousin. “I’m doing rather well on my own, and so is Tulip,” he sniffed. 

Merry ignored his protest and stirred the cake batter vigourously. “All right, hurry up and dump your bottles in now. We might not have much time until someone comes back.” Merry reached for his own stash and twisted the caps off. He paused long enough to take a whiff. “Smells very sweet.” 

“I want to taste it!” Before Merry could stop him, Pippin upended his little bottle and took a swig that amounted to almost half the contents. 

“Peregrin Took! I told you no tasting!” Merry snatched the bottle away and dumped the rest of the liquid into the bowl of batter. 

“Eww, it is sweet! Tastes funny too.” Pippin sputtered, making a face. He ran his sleeve across his mouth. “And they sounded so good too, with all those fruity names.” 

“I told you not to drink any. Serves you right.” Merry concentrated on pouring the batter into three round pans. “We have to get rid of the bottles. We can’t let anyone see them. Put all of them in your pockets and we’ll take them outside after I get these in the oven.” 

Pippin did as he was told and laughed as he made a circuit around the kitchen. “Listen, Merry. I make clinking sounds when I move.” He busied himself with seeing how fast he needed to tread to make the delicate jingle, ending by whirling around in a circle and toppling onto the floor. 

“Be quiet! Do you want our mothers to find out what you have in your pockets?” 

A few minutes later they buried the evidence underneath the lilac bushes in the back of the garden. “Good job.” Merry got to his feet and brushed the dirt from his hands. “Now all we have to do is get the cake out of the oven and ice it after it cools.” He grinned at his little cousin. 

“It’s going to be grand, isn’t it Merry? Why, I’ll wager we’re going to win the cake contest.” 

Merry patted him on the shoulder as they headed back to the smial. “We just might at that, Pip. Either way, I think our cake will be the most popular one at the faire.” 

Pippin released a loud belch and then hicupped. He giggled, “I think that strawberry licker is talking back to me, Merry,” he said, as he tottered up the path on slightly unsteady feet. “I feel kind of funny.” 

Merry rolled his eyes at his cousin’s back. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t talk back loudly enough for anyone else to hear.” 

______ 

The huge field where the faire was held every year was already filled with friends and neighbors the next day as Paladin pulled his waggon load of family up in front of the booth where the baked goods would be displayed. Bilbo was right behind them and was already helping the younger hobbits unloading the goods. He paused to have a look around. The excitement was palpable as the people scurried by, eager to share their wares with their neighbors and join in the fun. 

“Oh, everything does look splendid! I simply can’t wait for the judging to begin.” The old hobbit clapped his hands with enthusiasm. 

“Me too!” Pippin joined him in applauding their efforts. 

“Mum, Vinca and I are going over to the needlework booth so we can put up our display.” Pearl held up a colourfully embroidered image of wildflowers that had taken her months to complete. 

“And I want to find a good spot for my blanket before Emerald Grubb takes up all the front row with her lap coverlets and potholders.” Pimpernel smoothed her blanket as she carefully refolded it and draped it over her arm. 

“Ah, me. You lasses certainly have outdone yourselves this year. You go ahead now whilst I take your brother and his cake to the baker’s booth.” Eglantine bustled about, taking charge of her baked goods. “Are you ready, lad?” 

“Let’s go, Mum!” He beamed from ear to ear as he helped place the big cake on a table in front of the lasses. The volunteer in charge of signing in the cakes gazed down at him. The little Took produced Tulip from his shirt and perched her next to their entry. “Hullo! We’d like to enter our cake in the contest now.” His proud declaration caused her to giggle. 

“Hullo, Missus Took.” Petunia Boffin smiled at Pippin. “You’re entering this cake, Pippin? Did you make it yourself?” 

Pippin bobbed his head up and down, pointing to his toy. “Tulip too! We’re partners, we made it together.” He leaned close and whispered in a rather loud voice, “She’s certain we’re going to win, you know. I’d hate to see her disappointed, but I did tell her there’s a chance we might not. Oh, and my cousin Merry helped too, but he doesn’t want to be on the entry.” 

“My goodness, your toy piggy helped?” Petunia chuckled. 

“Oh, aye, but Tulip isn’t really a toy, you know. She just lets everyone think she is. She has her very own apron that Pearl made for her.” 

“Really.” Petunia glanced at Eglantine. Pippin’s mother shrugged, as if to say it was quite obvious to her that Tulip was a real piglet masquerading as a knitted toy. “All right, well I’ll just put both of your names on the entry form, all right Pip?” 

“Splendid!” Pippin plucked Tulip off the table and perched her on his shoulder. “Mum, can I go with Merry and look at everything else now?” 

“Go ahead,” Eglantine said, gesturing for her nephew to join them. “Just be on your best behaviour, m’lad. And don’t wander off.” 

“We won’t, Aunt Tina. Come on, Pip. I see Frodo’s already done helping Bilbo unload the carts. Let’s go see what everyone else is doing.” 

“I want to go to the toffee maker’s booth.” Pippin trotted off ahead of his cousin. 

Eglantine looked up in alarm. “Merry,” she called, “be sure he doesn’t eat too many sweets!” Her nephew waved his acknowledgement before sprinting after the youngster. 

“Missus Took, your Pippin is so delightful. Oh my, how he does chatter on. I hope he wins the red ribbon.” 

“Thank you, dear. What time does the judging begin, by the way?” 

“Ten o’clock on the dot, that’s what Mister Goodbody said.” 

“I’d better make sure Esmeralda gets her cake over here right away, then. I’ll see you later on, Petunia.” Eglantine went in search of her sister-in-law. 

_______ 

A crowd had gathered around the tent where the cake judging was taking place. Merry chortled as he listened to the comments about the unusual flavour of their entry. He nudged Pippin and whispered in his ear, “They love it, just like I said they would.” 

The judges began placing the Ribbons on the winning baked goods. Merry tugged his little cousin inside the tent, eager to know the outcome. Their view was blocked at first and he and Pippin held their breath, then burst into cheers when the crowd parted and they spied the winning Red Ribbon lying in front of the three layer cake iced in white and adorned with fresh strawberries. Pippin and Tulip’s ‘Splendid Strawberry Surprise’ had indeed taken first place. 

“See, Pip? I told you the liqueur would work,” Merry crowed. “They’re making quick work of it, too. It’s almost half gone.” 

Pippin waved Tulip in the air. The piglet squeaked her dismay with the aerial view and demanded her lad put her down where she could enjoy looking at her Ribbon! “Sorry, m’lass,” Pippin giggled. “I’m just so very excited!” He spied his parents coming towards them and jumped up and down with delight as he plunked Tulip down beside the cake. “Mum, Da! We won, look! Tulip, Merry and I won the Red Ribbon!” 

“Well, I’ll be.” Paladin stared at the long line of cakes, his son’s displayed proudly in the center bearing a large Red Ribbon. “Tina, he actually won. And look at all the folks sampling it.” Paladin shook his head in amazement. “Why, it’s over half gone already.” They could hear a variety of commentary as hobbits both young and old passed them bearing pieces of the cakes that were now being sliced and distributed to the crowd. ‘What an unusual taste’ and ‘I simply must have the recipe’ were the most often overheard remarks. 

Bilbo ambled up to the tent, keen to see what was going on. He broke into a huge grin when he saw the winning entry. “Oh, bravo, lads! Bravo! Well done!” 

Pippin sprinted up to him and hugged his legs. “Cousin Bilbo, Tulip and Merry and I won first prize!” 

“Yes, yes I see. Isn’t that brilliant?” Bilbo hugged the youth and patted Tulip on her head. “Whatever did you do to make it so special?” 

“We used licker!” Pippin declared proudly, then grunted as Merry slapped a hand over his mouth, making the last word come out sounding something like ‘pepper’. 

“Pepper, indeed. Ah well, whatever you used it must be marvelous indeed. Now I simply must have a taste of it myself.” Bilbo scurried away. 

“Pip, I told you it was our secret ingredient,” Merry hissed in his cousin’s ear. 

“I’m sorry, I just forgot because I was so excited.” 

“It’s all right, but be more careful. We don’t want anyone to find out our secret.” Merry winked knowingly at him. 

“Right.” 

“Mercy, it appears Togo Goodbody has been into the ale already.” Eglantine frowned at one of the cake judges. “See how tipsy he is, Pad? One would think he could have at least waited until the baked goods were all decided on.” 

Paladin raised an eyebrow as the subject of his wife’s disapproval walked by them unsteadily. He turned a thoughtful eye to the rest of the crowd before noticing the winning cake was almost gone already. “I’m going to have a taste myself,” he told his wife. He found Bilbo nibbling on a slice, a huge grin on his face. 

“You simply must taste it before it’s all gone, Paladin. I think you’ll find it’s got a most curious flavour.” 

“Oh?” Paladin reached for a piece and took a hesitant sniff and then a bite. He considered his cousin’s words as a slow grin of understanding came over his face. “Where did they find their secret ingredient, do you suppose?” 

“Oh, I don’t suppose at all. I know exactly where they found it. On the third shelf to the right of the apple brandy in my root cellar. My very expensive fine fruit liqueurs. Hmm, I would guess around four bottles. Your lad didn’t concoct this escapade up by himself, though. He couldn’t have even reached them without help.” Bilbo’s eyes tracked Merry as the youngster whispered to a giggling Pippin near the opening of the tent. 

“Pippin kept saying he’d copied an old recipe from a book at Great Smials. Now I find myself wondering what book he found,” Paladin said. He shrugged. “Ah well. You have to admit, they did make a mighty fine cake. And one that has a wee bit of an extra kick to it, eh?” 

“Yes, indeed.” 

“Bilbo?” 

“Hmm?” 

“We’d best not be letting Tina or Esmie hear about it. Are we agreed?” 

Bilbo watched thoughtfully as several of the fair goers helped a tipsy Togo Goodbody back to his feet for the second time. “Yes, I do believe that would be for the best.” He stuck the remainder of his cake in his mouth and closed his eyes while he savoured it blissfully. “But I do believe I’m going to have to get the recipe from the lads myself.” 

Paladin’s eyes widened. “Oh?” 

“It would be just the thing to make for Gandalf the next time he visits the Shire.” 

“Why, is he fond of strawberry liqueur?” 

“That, and he’ll appreciate the good tale that will come with the cake!” Bilbo’s eyes twinkled as he reached for the last piece, only to find someone else pinching the tasty morsel before he could claim it. Bilbo blinked in surprise. 

Saradoc neatly popped the bite into his own mouth with a wink of conspiracy. “Bilbo, why, it pains me to think you weren’t going to save a slice for me! Ah, this is indeed a most unusual tasting cake.” He smirked as he shoved the rest of the cake into his mouth and wiped his hands on his britches as if he was but a small lad himself. 

“Aye, it’s a shame we didn’t save any for the boys. After all, they did make it,” Paladin said. 

“This will certainly be a faire to remember,” Saradoc said. 

“Aye, and sometimes a cake is just not what it seems, eh?” Paladin winked at them. 

All three burst into uproarious laughter.


End file.
